Awesome Will Out
by katreeny
Summary: Kink meme de-anon - Prussia actually is awesome. The nations discover this after insulting him once too often.


Prussia leaned back in his chair almost far enough to tip it – it took balance to make these chairs do that, balance and a lot of practice. So far the meeting was completely normal.

China and Taiwan bitching at each other over which one was the _real_ China, check. Korea trying to claim someone's breasts, check. Japan and Hungary exchanging pictures of whoever they'd most recently caught in the act, check. France offering to "stimulate" England's economy and getting a black eye for his troubles, check. Russia sitting on Canada, check.

Only one thing missing, and the nations had less than five minutes to set a new record in the "claim Prussia is an idiot" stakes. If they managed it in three – less than fifteen minutes after the start of the first morning session – he'd walk out and let them figure out just how much he did for them.

Oh, he could pretend it amused him, but the game was getting old and more to the point, _boring._ He'd formally unified with his brother almost twenty-five years ago, and the two of them had worked fucking miracles since then.

East Germany had been bankrupt, the people demoralized. Since the nation was created Russia's bosses had been stripping it of anything worthwhile, bleeding it dry to prop up their ailing superpower. Prussia might have been nominally the personification, but everyone knew that was at best a polite fiction. He was Russia's dependent at best, and Russia's captive at worst.

Not an awesome time.

Still, he'd survived. In his own way, he'd thrived, playing head games with the communist fuckers, twisting his bosses into knots – it went both ways, him not really being East Germany. He didn't have to do what the fuckers said even if not being truly the nation made him weaker.

You did what you had to, and he'd planned from the start to make his brother the greatest nation in the world. He wasn't going anywhere until he'd succeeded, even if these days that meant making nice to Chancellor Merkel and helping Germany with the ridiculous amount of paperwork they piled on him – in Prussia's opinion they did that so Germany wouldn't have time to think about anything like, oh... world domination.

Hm... Looked like Turkey and Greece were about to start something again.

Prussia grinned and rested his boots on the polished wood of the conference table. His old, battered American combat boots bought probably third-hand from a military surplus store, with dried mud still flaking from the soles after the hike he'd taken yesterday. That should distract Turkey – who was as finicky about manners and proper dress as he'd been when he'd been the Ottoman Empire – and piss off Austria.

And there was still a minute to get the expected "Prussia is an idiot" before his self-imposed deadline. Awesome.

#

Less than five minutes later Prussia let the door swing closed behind him, no longer grinning. So he'd misjudged a little and sent the chair scooting back into the wall. He hadn't done himself any damage and the wall didn't have more than a scuff mark.

It still stopped Turkey and Greece from going after each other and distracted everyone else from their current arguments, allowing Germany to take control of the meeting again.

The insults weren't necessary. If not even his brother recognized that he was defusing arguments before they could turn into anything more serious by drawing fire to himself, well, fuck that shit. It was time to take an extended vacation and let the rest of the world figure out just how much he did for them.

It was about time they all realized that his awesomeness wasn't just hanging around here to play chew toy.

#

Germany didn't worry too much when his apologetic text to his brother went unanswered: Prussia usually needed time to cool down when he got angry enough to walk out of a meeting instead of returning the jibes with equally caustic retorts. Even when Prussia didn't return during the day, or for the entire week, he didn't worry.

When he returned home to find Prussia's motorcycle gone but his phone on his bed, the charge completely run down, the first niggle of concern rose. It wasn't like his brother to just… leave.

He found a note pinned to the fridge: _Don't bother looking for me, West. I'll be back when I'm ready._ Nothing more.

Germany sighed. Maybe he could use the time to catch up on the damned paperwork. First, though, he needed to feed the dogs.

#

Two weeks later, Germany was more than worried: he was ready to call an emergency meeting despite knowing his brother could take care of himself. It wasn't Prussia he was worried about: it was his own sanity. _Every_ other nation had called him wanting to know where Prussia had gone. Some multiple times.

Belgium was panicking because Prussia was apparently the only person who could make sense of the EU financial software – Germany really didn't want to think about that because it made for the kind of headache that left him wishing he'd been the one dissolved – he'd been helping Russia – of _all_ people, Germany thought – repair the crumbling old palace that was his primary home, and Poland was convinced Germany had his brother stashed away somewhere for his own protection or something, and was threatening to make Warsaw Germany's capital.

That wasn't counting the phone calls from people wanting to know why Prussia wasn't answering his phone ( _He doesn't have it with him and it isn't charged)_ , when Prussia would be back ( _I don't know: he didn't say_ ), why Prussia hadn't made one of the bewildering number of regular visits or meetings he apparently had ( _He said he'll be back when he's ready. That's all I know_ ). Germany was tempted to set his phone to go directly to a message that said no he didn't know where Prussia was or when Prussia would return and please stop calling.

Honestly, did the entire world fall apart without his brother?

Germany had to admit that he was finding it more difficult, but he _lived_ with Prussia and had the benefit of his brother's cooking and cleaning and the like, as well as the conversations that ran late into the nights where Prussia often had the answer to some problem Germany had been stewing on. The rest of the world should not have so many problems because Prussia had made himself scarce.

Then Belgium called again, in tears this time.

Germany tried to handle this with dignity, but really, what was he supposed to do? The female nations were even less likely to cry than the males, at least when someone could see them, so all he could do was make vague noises of what he hoped was comfort and wait until Belgium calmed down enough to explain.

"I'm sorry," she said at last. "It's just… the last Union meeting was a complete disaster, and the bosses are saying that it's all because I'm corrupt, and I had no idea your brother did so _much_ , and what am I supposed to _do_?" Her voice rose to a distressed wail.

Germany swallowed. "What happened at the European Union meeting, Belgium? My boss kept me here to deal with civil unrest."

"Oh." Belgium made a sound Germany couldn't interpret. "It was horrible. No matter what Netherlands did, it just turned into a huge brawl. We had to call Switzerland in to stop it, and _he_ had to shoot England, France, Greece, Spain, and South Italy."

Germany would have called that a minor war, but people were nervous about words like 'war' from him, so he didn't argue with Belgium calling it a brawl. "And this is being blamed on corruption?" he asked with no small amount of skepticism. Everyone knew the nations of the EU had old rivalries and hatreds going back forever, and that they'd use any excuse to vent them. At least these days it was usually done by argument rather than with lethal weaponry or armies.

"Well, no." Belgium sighed. "That's the financial thing."

Which remained a complete mystery to Germany, that his brother should be the only person capable of managing the EU's finances, so he asked, "Could you tell me how Brother came to be so involved in that, please?"

There was a long silence on the other side of the phone before she said, "I didn't know it was him until much later, but… Apparently he just showed up right when the Euro was introduced and nobody could work out how the conversion was supposed to go. He asked around until he got to one of the programmers, offered to help – said he was there to help with the transition – and got everything running. Everyone thought he was an employee." Belgium sounded bewildered, even a bit hurt. "It wasn't until people started asking what had happened to that 'nice albino programmer' that anyone even guessed something wasn't right."

Germany blinked. He knew better than to say anything to Belgium about someone wandering around the EU offices without authorization: aside from everything else, as the personification of the former East Germany Prussia was technically a German region, and as such completely authorized to be in the offices. Hell, if he wanted to look at it that way, his brother was the state of Brandenburg these days, since the original Brandenburg had faded into Prussia long ago.

That someone should have _asked_ for authorization was another matter he couldn't really bring up. It was quite normal for people to assume that someone inside a secured area belonged there, if there hadn't been any alarms. Even his people would do that, no matter how often they were told not to. And Prussia was unmatched when it came to getting into secured areas without setting off alarms.

Well, Prussia was unmatched at a lot of things, including causing trouble, but that was beside the point.

"We need him back, Germany," Belgium said. "Don't you have _any_ idea where he might have gone?"

Germany did have a few ideas, but he also knew better than to try to find his brother before the man was ready to return. "I..." He shuddered when what Belgium had said about the EU meeting connected to his memories of the World Meetings before and after Prussia had been a regular attendee. "I have some ideas, but I will need to discuss them with others, or the next World Meeting will be as bad as the EU meeting was."

"What?"

"Stupid of me," Germany said then. "I should have realized what he was doing." He shook his head. "It should have been obvious."

"Germany, what are you talking about?" Now Belgium sounded as though she was seriously questioning his sanity.

Germany blinked, realizing only then that he'd been talking to himself. "Belgium, think about the meetings. What happens whenever things start getting tense? Prussia does something foolish, or says something, and everyone shouts at him for a while, then the meeting gets back on the agenda."

Belgium gasped.

"So. We need to find where my brother is before the next meeting." Aside from anything else, _he_ was hosting the next one, and Germany had no desire to explain to his Chancellor why the venue had been all but destroyed by brawling nations. "If we make any mistakes, he will make himself even more difficult to find, so if you could call everyone you think might know how to find him here, we can plan."

If nothing else, Germany was sure he deserved the headache this would give him.

#

Under normal circumstances Germany would never allow France and Spain inside his house at the same time as both Italies, but this was anything but normal circumstances, and both nations had been warned to keep wandering hands to themselves. In France's case with a warning that he _would_ be tied to a chair if he didn't, since France would try to molest any nation who stood still long enough, where Spain kept his attentions to his 'little tomato'.

With the prospect of a Prussia-less World Meeting turning into World War Three looming ever closer, Germany wanted his brother found.

So did some surprising others: Russia and _both_ his sisters (Germany had thought Russia and Ukraine weren't speaking: apparently that wasn't the case at all), America and Canada, even, bizarrely, Australia.

Hungary was the first to ask the obvious question, "So why didn't anyone figure this out before?" She folded her arms, and glared at Austria.

Austria shrugged. "Because he's an idiot and an infernal nuisance. Who looks past that?" He didn't seem to mind the glares he got from multiple other nations.

"If I may," France said in a silky tone, "Prussia _acts_ like an idiot. That does not mean he is one." He didn't contradict the 'infernal nuisance' comment; but then, that part was rather accurate.

"Ve," Veneziano smiled. "Grandpa Rome says you should always look for who a person really is. If he hadn't he'd never have found Germania."

Germany, who had met both ancient nations and was – as much as a nation could be – descended from Germania – suspected that relationship was far more turbulent than Italy implied. He got no chance to say so.

"And I would never have loved Holy Roma, or Germany."

He was going to die of embarrassment. Germany had no doubts about this fate. He couldn't untangle himself from Italy Veneziano – and most of the time didn't want to – but God help him the other nation said the most outlandish things!

"Idiot!" Italy Romano said without malice. "You could have said neither one of them would say a word about where the albino potato went."

"Aw," Spain cooed. "You asked your grandpa for us? That's so sweet."

Germany counted ten under his breath. This gathering would do no good if he lost his temper and tried to kill one of his fellow nations.

America spoke up then. "Canada and I asked Brittania and our mother. Brittania wouldn't say, and Mother said something about looking for his old soul, like he has more than one."

Russia frowned. "Is not Kaliningrad," he said. "I check, when I hear we are needing to find Prussia."

Well, that was one of Germany's choices for his brother's hiding place off the list. "He is nowhere in my lands."

Nor anyone else's, which eliminated all Germany's other ideas. "Did any of you feel him pass through your lands?" He'd felt his brother leave. "He was traveling south-east when he left mine, and would have crossed the Austrian border."

Austria frowned, thoughtfully this time, then he sighed. "I think I know where he is."

#

He felt their approach long before they reached the small church and attached monastery that was all that truly remained of his land. He was surprised it had taken them this long to figure it out, since Austria wouldn't have said anything until he had no other choice.

He'd have to find a way to thank the prickly nation: Austria had kept his promise of keeping this little parcel of land _his_ and no other's, giving him just enough to have no need to depend on anyone else for his continued existence. He hadn't even asked anything in return, which was quite unusual.

He stretched, and sighed.

"Brother Order?" The Grandmaster (who was really not much more than an abbot these days, what with the sadly reduced fortunes of the Order) gave him a look of concern.

"I'm afraid my sabbatical here must be cut short," he said. "The others are on their way, and I would much rather not subject you and my Brothers in Christ to their behavior." Or his, when he wasn't here in his little sanctuary.

The Grandmaster gave a single nod. "Of course, my Brother. Go with God's Grace, and we shall anticipate your next visit."

He smiled, and bowed: an old-fashioned courtesy that belonged here. "Thank you, Grandmaster. God be with you."

"And also with you."

Less than half an hour later, with the approaching nations maybe a block away, Prussia walked out of the Order's church with a faint smile that he forced into his signature grin. Bless Austria for taking them to St Stephen's first. His Order's little church was nothing compared to the magnificence of St Stephen's Cathedral, but he'd rather not have any other nations traipsing through it. He had so little left that what he did have was that much more precious to him.

Poor Belgium looked completely frazzled, a state he doubted was helped by France so close behind her. Not that France would _do_ anything beyond getting overly handsy, but he had a way of making other nations feel like he was about to do a great deal more. Spain and Italy Romano appeared to be in the middle of an argument – when were they not? - while everyone gave Russia and his sisters ample space.

Prussia strolled over to them – Austria had them looking in a different direction – and said cheerfully, "Missed me, didja?"

#

Several arguments, one barely-averted fistfight, and a few frying pan injuries later – and not to Prussia, which was something of a miracle – Austria, Hungary, and Prussia gathered in Germany's living room. The others had returned to their various homes threatening dire things if Germany failed to ensure his brother was present at the next World Meeting.

Germany was more accustomed to people threatening him if he _brought_ Prussia.

Hungary watched Prussia as though she feared he might vanish again if she so much as blinked. Germany couldn't help wondering if he'd missed something there. Whatever it was, Prussia appeared oblivious to it.

He'd have to interrogate his brother privately, later.

"What were you thinking, just vanishing like that?" Hungary demanded.

Prussia shrugged. "I'm a 'useless former nation who's forgotten his place', a 'pestilential nuisance', an 'idiot with no sense of propriety' -"

Hungary glared at Austria, who shook his head. "That was Turkey, dear." The bruise on his forehead from the last frying pan assault suggested he'd needed to say that.

"- etcetera, etcetera, ad nauseam. Why would I think anyone would miss me?"

Germany simply raised an eyebrow.

"Other than my brother who ought to know better," Prussia added without so much as a blink.

Germany sighed. "I did try to apologize, you know," he said. "You didn't pick up your phone."

Another shrug. "I wasn't in the mood to hear it."

That, Germany understood all too well. If his brother had answered, they would have argued.

"So you just disappeared?" Hungary demanded.

"I left a note with West." Prussia made a gesture Germany couldn't interpret. "He knew I'd be back when I was ready. Nobody had to come looking for me."

Germany sighed and shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as though that would ward off the impending headache. "Brother, you have made yourself indispensable. These past few weeks I've had calls from nations I didn't know you _knew_ asking where you were and were you all right."

Prussia chuckled softly. "I didn't mean to dump all that in your lap, West. I figured nobody but you would care what I did."

"The 'nice albino programmer'?" Germany asked. "The one who is the only person who understands the EU financial software?"

Prussia snickered. "Seriously, West? It's not _that_ difficult. There's instructions on my desk there."

Germany didn't say anything about precisely how Prussia had come to have a desk in EU headquarters, instead saying, "That's not what Belgium and her people were saying."

Prussia rolled his eyes, then leaned back against the sofa with his eyes half-closed. "Considering she's one of the ones always calling me an idiot, that's a bit rich."

"Be fair, brother," Germany pointed out. "You _do_ act like one."

Prussia straightened as though he'd seen his greatest king enter the room, and his red eyes blazed. "I taught you fucking strategy, West. You know better than this. _I'm supposed to be dead and out of everyone's way_." That came out as a snarl. "You think I'm going to let any one of those fuckers see even a hint of a weakness?" He stood and marched from the room, head held high.

Germany sighed and massaged his temples. God help him, he hadn't meant to set that off. He knew how sensitive his brother was about having survived not one, but _three_ dissolutions. Technically four, if one counted the conversion of old Prussia to the Teutonic State of Prussia. Apologizing now would just rub salt into the wound.

Hungary and Austria exchanged one of those significant _looks_ that Germany could never understand, then Hungary rose. Her eyes were suspiciously bright. "Forgive me, Germany. I don't think you can deal with this."

He watched her follow his brother, not trying to hide bewilderment.

Austria's soft chuckle reminded him he wasn't alone here. "You know he's loved her for centuries, yes?"

Germany blinked. "Well, yes, but..." He waved a hand, not sure what he ought to say.

"And he took the same vows as any other member of the German Order."

That had been a very long time ago. Germany didn't… Oh. His shoulders slumped. "I'm such an idiot."

Austria gave another dry little chuckle. "For not seeing something your brother conceals from everyone including those of us who know him best? No." The older nation leaned over to pat Germany's hand in an avuncular kind of way. "He hates having no real place in the world more than anything else, you know. The EU, all the other things he does… It's so he feels needed, wanted."

Germany couldn't help wondering how a man as incapable of giving advice in matters of the heart could understand his brother so well.

Austria's smile was wistful, sad. "There was a time I almost married him. Much as I love Hungary, I do wish that I'd had the chance to love him as well."

Well… _that_ wasn't awkward. At all. Germany buried his face in his hands and hoped that something would save him from his embarrassment.

#

Prussia knew Hungary was following him to his room, but he waited until he'd reached that sanctuary before he spun on his heel to snarl, "What do you -" Her expression, the way she looked on the edge of tears, caught up with him then, and he finished in a softer tone. "- want?"

She extended her hands to him. "I think you already know." Her voice was gentler than usual, without the edge it usually had with him.

He stared at her. "You married Austria." She'd cried for Austria so many times behind Russia's damned walls, too. Never for him.

"And you, Brandenburg."

Prussia winced. "If you came here to dig the knife in, you can leave." He hadn't wanted that marriage, but he'd grieved ever since Brandenburg had faded, had become merely a part of Prussia. He'd hoped after reunification that the new state of Brandenburg would bring his former spouse back, but it hadn't. Brandenburg was gone, and Prussia remained.

"I… no, Gilbert."

Her use of his name was enough to silence him. It meant an intimacy that was both unlooked for and in a way, terrifying.

Hungary shook her head. "Austria and I… Why do you think he's kept the Order's lands separate from his?"

Prussia tried to sort through that. He'd never been much for emotions: they tangled him up and made it difficult to think through logistics and troop movements and the like. "I thought it was a kind of thank you for helping you in Russia's place."

Her laughter chimed lightly. "Oh, Gilbert. You know Roderich isn't a generous man. He'd not do something like that for mere gratitude."

Prussia swallowed, realizing then that he was staring at Hungary with his eyes so wide open they hurt. He forced himself to blink. "I… you know I took vows, right?"

"And? You know very well Holy See will grant absolution."

His mouth fell open. "You expect me to ask him to grant absolution so I can have a threesome with you and Austria?"

Hungary's giggles were almost as humiliating as rejection would have been. "Oh, Prussia. Gilbert. So we can formalize the union our hearts have already made." She opened her arms to him. "You need not fight it so."

He shook his head, backing away a step. "I can't." Another. "God knows I want to, but… I can't."

Hungary tilted her head. "Brandenburg?" she asked softly.

He nodded. "He was the strong one. But he faded into me, not the other way around. I won't risk that."

"It won't _be_ that." Hungary offered her hands again. "There'll be no political union, no personal union. Just three people."

And this, Prussia reflected, was why he took his little sabbaticals. Why he kept up the old discipline of a knight despite there being no real reason for it. It was so he could resist such lovely temptations as the one Hungary was offering. Except that his resistance grew thinner each time Hungary looked at him with such longing, and when she smiled sadly and lowered her hands, he couldn't stand the emptiness that was his existence any longer. "God, 'zebet, you know how to push a man to his limits."

Hungary smiled, and embraced him, too warm and too gentle, and he wanted it far, far too much. "Come on. Your brother feels horrible about accidentally reminding you of… that, and I'm sure Austria is worried for both of you."

He wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "Sure, sure. He's probably afraid West will kick me out again and he'll be stuck with me." Despite his light tone, his fingers interlaced with hers, and he didn't let go when they returned to the living room.


End file.
